So, it’s an article about a woman who flies planes and goes diving, but most of the article is about who she marries. Typical.

The thing I don’t understand is the last sentence: “After his third wreck, the sinking of the S. S. Delhi, he claimed his bride.”

Does that mean he was on three separate ships that sank? Did he sink them? How is this relevant to the story?

SHE FLIES AND DIVES

AN odd compact came to fulfillment recently when Mrs. Alys McKey Bryant, the prominent aviatrice, married Jesse W. Callow, chief engineer of the Pacific Coast Steamship Company. Years before, they had come to the agreement that if, at the expiration of ten years’ time both of them were free, they would marry.

Off our own shores, within tantalizing reach of you or any other would-be-millionaire, lie fabulous treasures—finders-keepers!

By West Peterson

LOOKING for money? Gold is where you I find it—and there’s plenty of that precious stuff down at the bottom of the ocean. On page 62 Mechanix Illustrated shows you just where you can drop anchor on $150,000,000 in sunken treasure, right along our coasts. But there’s billions more, scattered almost everywhere under the seven seas—all yours for the taking!

Mechanical “Wings” with which the inventor hopes he will be able to fly, are the work of 36-year-old Horace T. Pentecost of Seattle. In his right hand he holds the flight control stick: its handle is the throttle, regulated by turning. The “Hoppicopter,” as the inventor calls it, has a 2-cylinder, 20 hp. motor and weighs 60 pounds plus.

Precipitron an electrostatic air cleaner made by Westinghouse, cleans 23,000 cubic feet of air per minute in this room where lenses for naval optical instruments like periscopes are checked.

A noted German archaeologist believes he has uncovered the grave of the fabulous city that sank beneath the sea.

By Robert Martin

A TENSE drama was being enacted in the North Sea.

A deep-sea diver was exploring the ocean’s floor as a scholarly looking man stood by the rail of the vessel anchored fathoms above, his ears glued to the headpiece of a telephone line. Suddenly the diver’s voice came crackling over the wire. He had seen something incredibly strange in the phantom world beneath the sea. The man aboard the ship listened intently, then paled. His heart began thumping and his hands shook.

EARLY in the fall of 1953 two men set off on a skin diving prowl of the coral reefs in the ocean of Hillsborough, a tiny community on the southeast coast of Florida. The younger of the pair, wearing a brand new “lung” he’d recently bought, dropped off their boat and never surfaced alive.

The tragedy made headlines in south Florida, a climatically natural stronghold of the increasingly popular aquatic activity. It also spurred 260-pound Edwin D. Townsend into the development of a unique business.

DEEP sea explorers are now enabled to fathom the ocean’s secrets to a depth of more than 815 feet, thanks to the invention of a (living suit which has been dubbed the “one-man sub.”

Until recently divers could only descend to a depth of about 200 feet, while submarines could only go a little deeper, about 300 ft. In submarines it was not possible to work around in wrecked ships or examine the ocean floor.

A whole new world awaits man under the seas. Not a dream any longer, it is coming closer every day.

BY FLOYD B. McKNIGHT

“SHALL we take the sub-train down to Sea City?” you ask.

“No,” your companion replies, “Let’s take the Aquascender. We’ve been using the sub-train all week!”

You follow the crowd of commuters into the pressurized transparent cabin, much as you would enter an elevator on the top floor of a skyscraper. The door is closed. The atmosphere becomes almost imperceptibly darker as the stewardess turns on the light-conditioners to accustom your eyes to what is coming. A soft hissing sound informs you that the breath-conditioners are also on.

USING a special dry-land pressure tank, Navy officials have perfected a method of training deep-sea divers to combat perils hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the sea.

YOUNG men who wish to become deep-sea divers can learn the fine points of the profession without getting any closer to the ocean than Washington, D. C, thanks to scientists who have developed a system of pressure-tank training which enables divers to stand on the bottom of a tank twelve feet deep and experience exactly the same pressure and temperature conditions that obtain in the ocean at depths of 200 to 300 feet.

STANDING on the bottom at a depth of 12 feet, a man pulled steadily on a slender line. About 100 feet away, an object moved slowly toward him through the greenish-blue water.

As it drew near it took the shape of a beautiful young woman whose face and form could rival those of any mythical sea siren. She was bound hand and foot but, despite this apparent predicament, managed a cheerful grin when the diver finally reached out and grabbed her. Following twin streams of bubbles, they rose to the surface and he towed her to safety.